Love is Reason Enough
by MagicSwede1965
Summary: Christian's niece is tangled in a romantic dilemma. Follows 'Prince of Mine'.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** _Happy New Year! My first story for 2007 is open-ended, and when you finish reading the last chapter, there'll be a question at the end of it. I'll look forward to your opinions and ideas. Meantime, I hope you'll enjoy this first glimpse into Christian and Leslie's married life.  
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§ § § -- January 26, 2001

A surprising draft of cool air woke Christian before dawn that Friday morning, and he lifted his head, wondering. He was still acclimated to his native country, so the relative chill didn't bother him; but he was curious as to where it came from. The soft glow from the candelabra chandelier in the living room, turned low to act as a nightlight, gave off just enough light for him to see Leslie, still asleep but with a faint frown on her face. He brushed a kiss across her cheek before slipping out of the bed and wandering to the large French door that led to the deck. The previous night had been unusually warm and humid, and they had left it open in the hope of catching a breeze off the water. It felt as if they were finally getting it, but it seemed a little too brisk to Christian.

As he stood at the glass door staring out to sea, a bolt of lightning forked across the sky far out over the water. So that was the culprit: an offshore storm. Forgetting himself, he opened the door wider and stood right in the thick of the air current, avidly studying the sky as he had done ever since he was a child watching storms.

The sky lit with sheet lightning and he grinned in anticipation; about ten seconds later there came the rolling growl of thunder. About to step out onto the deck, he suddenly heard Leslie's voice from behind him. "Oh, dammit…"

Belatedly remembering her fear of storms, he peered over his shoulder to see her sitting up in the bed, hugging her knees. "Come on out, my Rose," he coaxed her.

"Are you kidding?" she retorted. "Actually, my love, I don't think you should be going out there either, and it has nothing to do with the possibility of getting hit by lightning. I'll be the first to admit the view is positively spectacular, but I may be the only one who thinks so." She gave him a wry smile, and it was only then that Christian realized he was standing there in his birthday suit. "You're lucky this house is so isolated!"

Christian laughed and conceded, retreating into the room and firmly closing the door, to her visible relief. "It's shameful of me to admit this, I know, but I'm afraid I forgot your fear of these things. But," he remarked, climbing back into bed beside her, "given the choice between standing at the window and watching as I normally do, or comforting you, it's no contest. You win every time."

Leslie smiled and half turned toward him as he shifted position so that she was sitting between his knees, and slid both arms around his torso, resting her head on his shoulder. "This being married has some wonderful fringe benefits," she observed with a drowsy, teasing note. "I could get to like this."

"You little tease," Christian said, chuckling. "Sometimes I think you're putting on an act for my benefit. Why on earth are you so frightened of storms, my darling?"

"I don't know," Leslie said. "I just am…always have been, as far back as I can remember. But it used to be just basic, average, run-of-the-mill scared. Then a few months before you and I met, we had this fantasy. You've heard of tornado chasers, right?"

Christian nodded. "I've always wanted to go on one of those tours," he said.

"Well, you should've been there," Leslie said. "The guest in question made his living leading tours like that, except for one thing—he'd never actually managed to see a tornado. And that was his fantasy…so, under duress, Father agreed to grant it. The guy had a group of about half a dozen enthusiasts with him. And then he got one more—namely me."

"You're joking!" Christian exclaimed, a laugh in his voice. "Why?"

"Because," Leslie said, sighing, "I thought it would be a good way to help cure myself of being afraid of storms. Father didn't like the idea of my going with them and objected strenuously, but I was too stubborn to listen to reason."

"So what happened?" Christian prompted eagerly when she paused.

Leslie lifted her head and gave him a wry, sheepish look. "It backfired on me, big-time," she admitted. "We saw a tornado, all right—in fact we narrowly missed getting picked up by the thing. But the next time we had a tame little thunderstorm, I freaked out, and poor Father was up half the night trying to calm me down, like I was a four-year-old seeing monsters in the closet. I set myself back so far that I can't stand to be alone during these things, so it's another reason for me to be glad that we're married. I can take comfort from my fearless husband." She grinned at him, and he laughed, just as lightning brightened the entire room for a prolonged two seconds. Startled, Leslie let out a small shriek and grabbed him, making him laugh all the harder and hug her securely.

Thunder roared around them, perhaps more loudly than it should have, and both Christian and Leslie tensed, listening curiously. "Did you hear something strange?" he asked.

"Yeah, like a banging," Leslie suggested, and he nodded. A moment later it came again in a frantic barrage of noise, and they stared at each other, realizing someone was pounding on the door. "I don't believe this!" Leslie exclaimed.

"Neither do I," Christian agreed incredulously. "Well, since we spent half of last night making love in here, I think we'd better take the time to get dressed before we find out who on earth discovered us here in our hideout."

"Wait for me," Leslie pleaded nervously as he swung out of bed, and he gave her a reassuring grin, pulling on briefs and a pair of lightweight pajama pants. He lingered long enough for Leslie to throw on underpants and a sleep shirt, then took her hand and led her out to the other side of the house. Rain had begun lashing the ocean-facing windows, blown by a steady wind, and Leslie flinched at another blast of lightning and thunder. Once again there was a flurry of banging on the door.

"Just a moment!" Christian shouted, hoping to be heard over the racket, and flipped on a couple of lights before unlocking the door and opening it. To his and Leslie's shock, Anna-Kristina shot inside the moment he did so, wild-eyed, shivering and dripping.

"Well," said Christian with heavy irony, closing the door again and locking it, "if it isn't my niece, the drowned rat. We were just expecting you."

Anna-Kristina found the wherewithal to glare at him, and Leslie grinned. "How'd we get so lucky as to be graced by your presence on this fine morning?" she teased gently.

"Let me get a towel and one of my T-shirts for her while you grill her, my Rose," Christian said, shaking his head and heading for the back of the house. Leslie studied the younger woman wonderingly.

"How on earth did you find us here?" she asked, seriously now.

"I walked," said Anna-Kristina, stunning Leslie.

"You can't be serious," Leslie said, gaping at her. "Do you know how far this is from our end of the island? Not only that, do you know what time it is? You're lucky we were even awake!"

"I knew you would be," Anna-Kristina said, turning a pleading look on Leslie. "I know from Uncle Christian that storms frighten you. Please, Aunt Leslie, when he gets back, I really need to talk to you both. I've wanted to do that for a week, but you never came back from here after the day you gave that interview to your friend, and I didn't want to bother Mr. Roarke."

"So you decided to go out of your way to bother us instead," Christian said, returning with a towel and one of his old T-shirts, "even though you're fully aware that Leslie and I are still on our honeymoon." He paused behind the princess and wrapped the towel around her; it was an oversized bath sheet, fluffy and fragrant from a recent washing. "I can't wait to find out how you came all the way out here—not to mention why—and why you did it at four-thirty in the morning to boot. This must be one amazing story."

"Christian, my love, ease up on her a little," Leslie coaxed with a little smile, reaching around to caress his back for a moment. To Anna-Kristina she remarked, "We've had just enough interruptions of our honeymoon to really annoy him, I'm afraid. First we got held over for Myeko's interview; then we had a phone call from your father, of all people, trying to get Christian to do something else on behalf of king and country…and now here you are."

"Oh," said Anna-Kristina in a small voice, looking abashed. "I didn't know. How did Pappa get the number here, and what did he want?"

"I was about to ask you that," Christian said, sighing. "To answer your second question, he's trying to squeeze all the royal duty he can out of me before I'm officially declared a faceless peon. Needless to say, I told him what to do with his royal command, and you can bet your very last _krona_ that it was the most vindicating thing I've ever done." He grinned with remembered relish, making Leslie laugh merrily. "Now for heaven's sake, what are you doing here?"

"I need some advice," Anna-Kristina said, and cringed when Christian's mouth fell open in disbelief.

Leslie cleared her throat. "Look," she suggested, "it's really too early for this. Tell you what, my love, why don't you go on back to bed and wait for me, and I'll get a pillow and blanket for Anna-Kristina and set her up on the sofa out here. Then we can all get a little more sleep before we talk…at a more reasonable hour." She smiled at the princess as she said this last, and Anna-Kristina blushed and grinned sheepishly.

"You're right," she said, "but at least I'm here now." Defiantly she eyed Christian and said, "I walked out here, and I did it on purpose. Well, I didn't _walk_ on purpose, but I did come out here on purpose. I couldn't sleep and I desperately needed to talk to someone, but nobody would drive me out here. So I simply walked, since I was restless anyway."

"_Herregud,"_ Christian muttered, aghast. "I can't believe you even managed to find this house. Leslie claims to be stubborn, but you have her beaten by kilometers."

"That's not stubbornness, that's insanity," Leslie bantered, winking at Anna-Kristina.

Christian chortled with appreciation. "A very good point, my Leslie Rose. All right, then, I'll be waiting for you in the bedroom, and you—" this he directed at Anna-Kristina— "had better resign yourself to waiting a while. We've had only a few hours of sleep, and this storm doesn't help the situation. So whatever it is you need to discuss with us, just put it away until something resembling a civilized hour." He smiled at her to soften the words, gathering some of her towel while he was speaking and squeezing the extra water from her sodden hair; then he gave Leslie a lingering kiss and retreated to the bedroom, yawning as he went. Leslie watched him go, a dreamy look in her eyes.

"Aunt Leslie…" Anna-Kristina prompted with a little grin.

Leslie blinked and caught herself, grinning good-naturedly. "Okay, okay. Let's see if I can find what I'm looking for in here." She went to the linen closet in the hallway that connected the kitchen and living area and the bedroom, checking shelves till she unearthed a pillow and two fleece blankets. "This should do it. Do you need help?"

"No, I've bothered you enough," Anna-Kristina said apologetically. "I can curl up on the sofa under these and I'll be happy, just as long as I'm out of the rain. Thank you, and good night…and I'm sorry."

Leslie shrugged. "Just try to get some sleep," she said and patted Anna-Kristina's shoulder. "Good night." Anna-Kristina padded back out to the living room, and Leslie let herself into the bedroom and pushed the door shut behind her.

"Is she all right, then?" Christian asked from the bed.

He was lying there with his arms folded beneath his head, the covers pulled up to his waist. "She'll be fine," she said, glancing at the floor where the clothes he had been wearing a few moments ago lay in a rather ostentatious heap. She grinned and inquired, "Did you turn into a slob for a reason?"

Christian smiled, his eyes gleaming in the occasional lightning flashes. "Good, you noticed." Normally he was a very tidy person, Leslie had learned, which suited her fine, as she preferred things to be in their proper places. "And yes, that's a message."

She leaned casually on one of the bedposts. "Hm," she murmured with exaggerated puzzlement, "I wonder just what you're trying to say?…" Playacting, she tapped her chin with a forefinger, peering at the ceiling and assuming a look of overdone confusion, while well aware of him lying there with his chest heaving with silent chuckles. "Well, I guess for one thing, it means you're naked."

Christian's laughter escaped and he sat up in bed, stretching his hand towards her. "Oh, stop stalling and come here, you adorable tease. Now that my errant niece has me wide awake, I see no reason not to take advantage of it." Giggling, Leslie swiftly stripped and got in beside him, pressing against him and turning his head to kiss him.

Christian deepened the kiss almost immediately, then groaned when a bolt of lightning set off an audible crack nearby and resulted in an explosion of thunder that made his wife yank back and clutch him with some desperation. "That wasn't fair," he grumbled, his annoyance at least a little exaggerated for Leslie's benefit in an attempt to calm her down with humor. "I wanted this time with you before we had to deal with our houseguest."

"I know…I'm sorry," Leslie said, her voice shaking just a little. "It's the thunder more than the lightning, actually. I have this phobia about sudden loud noises."

"Ah," he said, still teasing her, "so that's why you're usually so quiet when we make love…" She snorted, making him chuckle. "Well, maybe not that much. You do have the most arousing way of calling my name when you have a climax. Do you have any idea how much that turns me on?"

Thunder boomed again and Leslie cringed; Christian sighed and gave up with good grace. "I'm sorry, my darling," Leslie said again, helplessly.

"Shhhhh," he soothed, stroking her hair. "I know you can't help it, and it's not easy to overcome a phobia. I'll just have to hope this storm goes away quickly."

"I was just thinking," Leslie said. "Anna-Kristina said she couldn't get anyone to drive her out here. Why didn't she just borrow a jeep and go?"

"Because she doesn't know how to drive," Christian said, grinning at her astonished expression. "Yes, it's really true. She never learned, and Arnulf never saw any need to have her taught, since it was always assumed she would be queen. And we all tend to be shuttled around in official cars, although not so much myself as the rest of my family. I did learn to drive, of course, especially since I chose not to live in the castle. But Arnulf doesn't drive, and his daughters don't drive, and neither do Carl Johan and Anna-Laura—though their children do. Sometimes, I admit, my family can be hopelessly archaic."

Leslie giggled and nestled against him. "In any case, I'm really interested in hearing what's got Anna-Kristina so upset that she'd go so far as to walk what has to be a good fifteen miles in the middle of the night, with a storm coming for most of that time, just so she can get some advice from her favorite uncle."

"Whatever it is, it must be enormous," Christian said, "though occasionally she has a bent for dramatics, so if I were you I'd take it with a few grains of salt." He yawned again and rested his head atop hers. "Now, how much honeymoon do we have left?"

"Counting today, five days," Leslie said. "Then it's back to the real world, and our jobs, and so on. Only I get to come home to you from here on out."

"And I to you," Christian agreed. "It's occurred to me that I might want to rearrange my usual work schedule. Since you work weekends, it would make more sense that I do the same; I probably wouldn't get to see you anyway, so I might as well. Does Mr. Roarke give you the equivalent of weekends?"

"I imagine we could work that out," Leslie mused. "I always just went ahead and worked all week, since I didn't have much reason not to."

Christian let his hands begin to slowly roam her body. "Well, you do now, so I guess that's another item we need to put on a list of things to discuss with Mr. Roarke. Just thinking of everything that has to be done makes me tired…and makes me wish we could just stay here and make love for the rest of our lives."

"A nice thought," Leslie murmured, closing her eyes to better absorb the sensation of his hands on her, "but a lot of people would object. Mmmmm…touch me there again." Over her head, Christian smiled and complied, then lowered his head and kissed her. This time she surrendered willingly, while the storm blew itself out and the rain rattled against the windowpanes.


	2. Chapter 2

§ § § -- January 26, 2001

Anna-Kristina waited till she saw Leslie close the bedroom door; then she stripped off her soaked clothing and pulled her uncle's T-shirt over her head. He had a good eight inches on her, so his shirt was almost a dress on her, and it made her grin. She was really going to miss her uncle when she had to go back to Lilla Jordsö, and she knew she'd miss her new aunt as well. While she was closer to her mother than her father, she had never felt totally at ease around them. From the time she had been a little girl, she'd gravitated toward her Uncle Christian, who had been only fourteen years old when she was born and had somehow been dragooned to babysit her on many occasions through the first five or six years of her life, till she had started school. Thinking back on it, she had to grin to herself again. She had always been a very feminine little girl, and Christian must undoubtedly have wished time and time again that he could go off and do his own thing; but she had many fond memories of his patiently playing waiter at the tea parties she'd hosted for her dolls and stuffed animals, watching her model new dresses, even braiding her hair once her mother had shown him how. And he'd endured her endless chatter about anything and everything, seeming truly interested and even responding with all apparent seriousness. As she'd begun moving through her school years, he had helped her with endless homework assignments, especially English; his easy fluency in the language had had a tremendous effect on her, so that she too spoke it well.

She curled up on the sofa, huddled under the two blankets, and wondered how she was going to broach the subject she needed to discuss. She wanted both Christian and Leslie to be present, because they both could be expected to have some valuable input. Faintly she heard Christian's laughter from the bedroom, and a surge of envy twisted her insides. How she longed to have what her uncle and aunt did.

She didn't begrudge Christian his happiness with Leslie; he deserved it after all these years. She could remember his overblown wedding to Johanna a couple of years before she started school; it had been such a huge event that even though she'd been only five at the time, the memories were still vivid. She had been their flower girl, in fact. But Johanna had been chilly and aloof, had treated Anna-Kristina like a nuisance; and Christian and Johanna, while they both lived in the castle, had managed to spend most of their time apart. She remembered that Christian had kept his old bedroom and Johanna had taken an unused room in a different part of the castle. At the time it hadn't seemed unusual to her; in fact she liked the arrangement, for it allowed Christian to go on sitting for her. She had been eight at the time of Johanna's death, and could still remember Christian's reaction when her late grandfather, King Arnulf I, had broken the news…

"Christian, what are you doing in here?" he had asked.

"Watching Anna-Kristina, of course," Christian had replied. At twenty-two he was considered quite the heartthrob; somehow, in this already attractive family, he'd been blessed with standout good looks. "Why?"

"You'd better get dressed," his father had said. "There's a funeral to go to. We just got word from Norway. Johanna is dead."

Anna-Kristina clearly remembered Christian's reaction, or perhaps more correctly, his non-reaction: his eyebrows had gone up and his face had registered surprise, but there had been no sorrow there. "I see," was all he had said.

"Do we _have_ to go to her funeral?" Anna-Kristina had demanded. "She didn't like Uncle Christian, _farfar_, and she really didn't like me. She always gave me nasty looks when she saw me."

Arnulf I, far more indulgent towards his grandchildren than his children, had smiled at her and moved into her room to chuck her under the chin. "It's not necessary that you go, little one," he had said, "but your Uncle Christian was married to her, and he must be there. It's only right."

Christian had asked, "How did it happen?"

"It was the train derailment we heard about last night," his father had said. "They finally found Johanna's body in the wreckage early this morning. A shame really; she was a lovely girl."

"She was not," Anna-Kristina had said hotly, as much in defense of her favorite uncle as in her desire to make her grandfather see the truth of things. "She was pretty, but she was nasty. I don't want Uncle Christian to get married again, _farfar_. He helps me with all my homework, and he always knows the answers to all my questions."

Christian had laughed and tousled her hair. "Even if I find someone else to marry, I'll still be here to help you with your homework and answer your questions, so don't worry about that. But _farfar_ is right…I do have to attend the funeral, even if only for the sake of appearances." Anna-Kristina remembered watching him with some alarm as his face had shuttered and he'd regarded his father with a carefully expressionless stare. "I'll do my duty, as I've always done."

Anna-Kristina sighed softly. Christian had never really been rebellious, at least not in the sense most people thought of it; but it had been obvious that he'd often chafed under the constraints of being born into royalty. After her grandfather had died in the fall of 1995 and her father had been crowned king, it had become all the worse. Not right away, though—now that she thought of it, it had happened just about the time he'd met Leslie and then come back to find himself married off to Marina. It was Christian's free-spiritedness and genuine warmth that had enabled him to connect with the public, and in addition to his looks, that had won him quite a few female admirers. Between Johanna's death and his marriage to Marina, Anna-Kristina could remember him dating only three or four women, and none of them had been serious in any way. For all his warmth and spontaneity, he was still royalty, and had been raised to be unreachable, in the manner of a celebrity. She wished she knew what it was about Leslie that had finally made him fall in love; she knew he hadn't loved Johanna or Marina, and certainly none of his few casual girlfriends in between. There were some things Christian kept private: she wondered if he had told, or ever would tell, Leslie about them. _If anyone deserves to know, she does,_ the princess thought.

Her thoughts put her to sleep; and when she slowly returned to awareness, she heard voices, low but distinct. "You're making what?" she heard Leslie ask.

"_Huevos rancheros,"_ Christian said. "There must be some cayenne pepper around here…have you found the spices yet, my Rose?"

"No…let me try up here." There were sounds of feet moving around the kitchen and the muted clangs of pans on the stove. "Aha, here they are. Cayenne, huh? Are you planning to invite Father over for breakfast? He was raised on this kind of thing."

"Hadn't thought of that. Don't we have enough houseguests?"

"Shush, my love…you'll wake up Anna-Kristina. Be nice." Leslie giggled at something, and then came an odd little squashing noise and Christian's low, laughing, resigned curse. "You're an egg murderer, Christian Enstad!"

"It's your fault, you distracted me." This through more laughter. "I hope we're not running out of eggs…"

"Wouldn't surprise me, that's the third one you've managed to ruin. For all your cooking skills, I see you can't crack eggs. You did the same thing our first morning here, and don't think I didn't notice it."

"You just decided to be generous and overlook it, is that it?" Still more laughter, from both of them. "Here, give me that. Don't hide the cookbook on me, I've never done this before and I need help." There was the slapping sound of a book on a counter. Anna-Kristina, now wide awake, grinned to herself; their banter was fun to listen to. She was thrilled that her uncle was finally so happy.

"Are you sure you've got that? Maybe I'd better do something around here other than watching you shatter eggshells. Were you planning on making something to go with this?"

"Well, if you can't tolerate spices, then you might be interested in whipping up some more of those Belgian waffles. Anna-Kristina might like those, and I think they're delicious. Why isn't this damn thing written in metrics? Do recipes actually work with these peculiar imperial measurements?"

"Sure they do. I grew up on them. If you need help, just yell."

"I'll figure this out if it kills me. Please, my darling, will you make the waffles?"

Another laugh. "In case the eggs are a disaster, you mean?" There was a low masculine growl and a squeal of feminine laughter, more footsteps across the floor, then silence, except at one point for a soft moan. Anna-Kristina smirked. They must be kissing again; she had never seen any two people who were less capable of keeping their hands off each other. Mischievously she tossed aside the blankets, got to her feet and stretched, then turned to observe her uncle and aunt deeply involved, hands roaming freely.

"Good morning," she singsonged loudly.

Christian and Leslie broke apart, looking slightly confused; Leslie blinked and Christian narrowed his eyes at her, strictly for show. _"Now_ you decide to get up," he said.

She snickered and came into the kitchen. "What are you doing in here? Destroying eggs again, are you, Uncle Christian? Oh my. I've never seen you use a cookbook before."

Christian stared at her and then at Leslie, asking his wife plaintively, "Did I do or say something to deserve this kind of abuse? If you want breakfast, Anna-Kristina Maria Linda Karina Enstad, then watch your mouth and treat me nicely."

"Oh dear," Anna-Kristina said and grinned at Leslie. "When Uncle Christian calls me by all my names, I know I'm in deep trouble. I'll try to be good, I promise." She sobered. "I do still need to talk to you both, really."

"Well, we're both in the middle of cooking," said Leslie, "so why don't you sit up here at the counter and keep an eye on the egg murderer here while you talk." Anna-Kristina let out a squall of laughter while Christian shook his head with reluctant amusement.

"Do you want to do this, then?" he asked with fake ferocity.

"Nope, you said you'd figure it out if it kills you, my love," Leslie told him with a grin. "Let's just get to work over here and let your niece have her say."

"She's your niece too, my darling," Christian reminded her gently, kissing her softly before turning her loose. "Don't forget, my family is yours now." He smiled, then returned to his breakfast project. "All right, then, so go ahead, Anna-Kristina, we're listening."

She drew in a deep breath and said, "I wish I could have the same thing you two do. You're so wonderful together, so right for each other. It makes me so envious, and now that there are two possibilities, I don't know what will be right."

"Two possibilities for what?" Christian asked, confused again.

Leslie looked up from assembling waffle batter. "Are you saying there're two guys you're interested in?"

Anna-Kristina nodded. "In a way, I guess. I mean…let me start at the beginning—"

"That would be helpful," Christian put in with a wry look at his niece.

"Don't interrupt me," she said, piqued. "It's hard to think when you tease me."

"It's only that you're not making much sense," Christian returned logically. "You started out by telling Leslie and me that we're so right for each other—which I did find entirely sensible of you to say, perhaps even brilliant—" He paused long enough to grin at Leslie, who laughed and nodded. "—but then you said something about possibilities, and it was hard to see how that connected with the rest of your sentence. Now, where does all this begin, so that we have a chance to give you that advice you're looking for?"

"It started at the reception for your wedding," Anna-Kristina said. "I know you didn't stay very long, so you would have missed it. Prince Carlono likes me, I think. He asked me to dance, and he dances very nicely. He has lovely manners, and treated me with respect and warmth, and was just a very nice man. But…"

"You're not attracted to him," Leslie guessed.

"Maybe a little," Anna-Kristina said, hunching one shoulder and directing a wistful look at her. "I suppose I might have been more so, but then I was getting something to eat and that's when I saw _him_. He sat at a table with three other men. I think he's a native of this island, Aunt Leslie. I wanted to meet him, and I saw no reason not to talk to him, so I went there and said hello. The other men said hello back, but the one I was watching only nodded once and didn't speak. He watched me a little, but he didn't seem to be willing to respond to me." She bit her lip. "I don't even know his name."

"What did he look like?" Christian asked.

"Black hair and dark skin and brown eyes," said Anna-Kristina, shrugging. "He seemed to have nice muscles on his arms and shoulders, at least what I saw under his shirt, but I thought his legs looked a little thin. He held them oddly…I mean, when he sat, one leg was stretched out almost straight."

Christian and Leslie both went still and stared at her, then at each other in recognition. "That's Mateo," they said in perfect unison.

"What? Tell me his name again!" Anna-Kristina pleaded.

"Mateo Apana," Leslie supplied. "We both know him. He used to be one of Father's regular drivers, and now he's the manager for Christian's office here."

"He's a very good man," Christian said, "but I can't say I know him well…I think Leslie would be able to tell you more than I can. He works hard and is dedicated to his job, but he never strays from business matters when we speak."

"He's an unusually private person," Leslie said slowly, thinking back. "He was always polite and friendly, but never really talked much—he's quite reserved. Father respected that and never tried to draw him out, but I can remember a couple of occasions when he thought Mateo might have some sort of…I don't know, issues…for lack of a better word. I think he just sensed that not everything was right in Mateo's world. But he never once pushed him; he said Mateo had a right to his privacy, and that it was no one else's place to pry. We know almost nothing about him. I don't know if he even has any friends. You said he was sitting with some other men?"

Anna-Kristina nodded. "I watched him for a few minutes, just looking at him, before I went to say hello. I just liked what I saw. The other men were speaking, and sometimes he would smile, but he himself didn't say anything. But he has such a nice face…" She turned red and admitted, "It's the sort of face I used to picture on a man I would fall in love with. I just know that I'd like to get to know him, but now that you tell me about him, I'm afraid I won't be able to do it." She studied her folded hands on the countertop. "It would be easier and more sensible to let Prince Carlono court me, wouldn't it? He really seems to like me, but I don't think Mateo has any interest."

"That all depends on your feelings, honey," Leslie said gently. "If it's Mateo you're really attracted to, I think you'd regret it if you didn't at least try."

"Leslie's right," Christian said, coming up behind his wife and resting his arm around her waist. "Look, if you like, I can facilitate introductions. After that, what happens is up to you and Mateo. But you surprise me; Mateo's personality, at least on the surface, is very different from yours. He speaks little beyond what's required, whereas you're a relentless chatterbox." He grinned at Anna-Kristina's dirty look. "You are, and you know it perfectly well. I'd think you'd be attracted to someone as talkative as you are."

"You know the saying, my love," Leslie said, "opposites attract."

Christian shrugged comfortably. "True. I just didn't think these particular opposites would attract. Anyhow, I do need to start shopping for a computer system I can use at home, and it wouldn't hurt to drop by the office. I can introduce you to Mateo then, and after that you're on your own, because Leslie and I are going to Coral Island where there's supposed to be a very good electronics store. If you need advice after that, then I suggest you go to Mr. Roarke. You're a guest here, and I see no reason he wouldn't be willing to help you. You seem to forget that Leslie and I have several days of honeymoon remaining to us, and we'd be grateful to be left alone to make the most of them before it's time to rejoin the outside world. So is that arrangement good enough for you?"

Anna-Kristina eyed him, then looked at Leslie and remarked, "I think Uncle Christian just told me I'm being kicked out."

Christian grumbled something in _jordiska_ and Leslie laughed softly, planting a kiss on his lips. "Not to be so indiscreet about it, but yes, that's it in a nutshell. Once we've had breakfast, we'll all head back to our end of the island. Oh, and while we're eating, give me your clothes, Anna-Kristina, and I'll throw them in the dryer for you so you don't have to wear Christian's old T-shirt back to your bungalow."

Christian finished his egg project while Leslie went off with Anna-Kristina's still-wet clothing. When she came back to mix the batter ingredients, Anna-Kristina was standing next to Christian at the stove, peering dubiously at the contents of the pan he was tending. "What's that supposed to be? I think I heard you call it something in another language."

"It's called _huevos rancheros_, and the cookbook says that _huevos_ is Spanish for eggs," Christian told her. "Do you want to try some?"

"Okay," said Anna-Kristina, shrugging. Leslie grinned.

"At your own risk," she said in cheerful warning, making their niece laugh aloud.

Christian rolled his eyes. "Now I understand how Rodney Dangerfield feels. Not even my own wife will give me a break. I followed the recipe exactly. Don't you trust me?"

"No," said Anna-Kristina, and Leslie giggled.

"I'll reserve judgment, my love," she promised her husband, who shook his head with exaggerated disgust and started scraping the concoction out of the pan. Putting the cover on the dish he was using, he started a new batch while Leslie began turning out waffles; by the time that was ready, she had made enough waffles for each of them to have two. While Anna-Kristina watched, Christian and Leslie began splitting their fare among three plates, working in nicely choreographed tandem. Again she wondered if she would ever find with someone else the easy harmony they shared.

Christian handed a plate across the counter to Anna-Kristina and scraped a last spoonful out of the pan before setting it in the sink and running water into it; then he turned to Leslie and offered the spoon to her. "Try it?"

She affected a highly doubtful look, but her eyes twinkled. "Oh, all right," she said and opened her mouth while he fed her. Christian dropped a kiss on the tip of her nose and let the spoon fall into the pan, adding soap.

"I think we'd better go to the grocery store," he mused, coaxing the last of the dish detergent out of the bottle.

"Hmm, we could…" Then Leslie's eyes went huge with shock and she gulped audibly before grabbing the counter and gasping. _"Yoooowwwwwwww!!"_

Anna-Kristina sat up in alarm and Christian flew into action, frantically grasping her shoulders. "Leslie, my Rose! What's wrong? Tell me what to do, please!"

She gaped at him, her eyes enormous, her breath coming in shallow pants. "Juice," she gasped out. "Bread. Anything. Quick, please…"

Looking terrified, Christian seized the loaf of bread from the top of the refrigerator where it sat, blindly fished out the heel and handed it to Leslie, who grabbed it from his hand and took a huge, desperate bite. Anna-Kristina stared in amazement. "What on earth is wrong?" she exclaimed.

"I don't know," Christian cried. "Leslie, my darling, please, what's the matter?"

She shook her head hard, her eyes squeezed shut, working on the mouthful of bread; when she finally swallowed and looked up at him, her eyes were wet. "Good God, Christian, what did you put in those eggs?" she demanded, still panting a little. "I thought my throat had caught fire!"

The panic faded from Christian's look, replaced by confusion. "I just followed the recipe," he said, bewildered. "Why?"

"Let me see that cookbook," she said, and he pulled it off the counter where it still lay open to the recipe he'd chosen. She peered at the ingredient list, absently fanning her hand in front of her mouth for a moment. "Are you sure you followed it exactly?"

"Of course I did," Christian insisted. "For heaven's sake, why?"

"Well, something went wrong," Leslie said and moved closer to him, holding the book so he could see it as well. "Read me the ingredient list."

"Four eggs," Christian read, "three tablespoons of hot sauce, three tablespoons of cayenne pepper—"

"Wait, wait, wait!" Leslie interrupted, gawking at him again. "Tablespoons!? Christian, my darling, this abbreviation is for _tea_spoons!"

Both Christian and Anna-Kristina looked totally blank. "So?" Christian prompted.

"So you put far too much hot sauce and cayenne pepper into those eggs," Leslie informed him. "Teaspoons are considerably smaller than tablespoons."

"Really?" said Anna-Kristina curiously and popped a bite into her mouth before Leslie could stop her. Christian eyed her sidelong, with a skittish look that said he was waiting for another over-the-top reaction; he and Leslie were rewarded seconds later when Anna-Kristina exploded into a coughing fit. Sighing with resignation, Christian gave her a piece of bread and looked at his wife.

"Why didn't you tell me about that?" he asked.

"I told you to yell if you needed help," Leslie reminded him. "But you insisted you were going to figure it out all on your own."

Christian cursed, without much force. "You're right," he admitted and let his head fall back, staring at the ceiling. "I was afraid I'd poisoned you or something. I'm sorry, my Rose, I should have asked you."

She grinned. "Well, no permanent damage was done," she said, hugging him. "Maybe you're right about the metric cookbooks. There should be some in the bookshop here—I know the mall on Coral Island won't have them, since it serves primarily the military base there, and that's American. We'll just have to stop and get you some." She patted his chest. "It really is too bad Father wasn't here—I think he'd have loved this."

"What did they feed Mr. Roarke when he was growing up, flaming swords?" Anna-Kristina finally managed to choke out, her eyes streaming reflexively. "There should be a strong warning with that recipe. _Aj herregud_, I can't believe I haven't died."

"I told you she had a bent for dramatics," Christian remarked in a stage-whispery aside to Leslie, who burst out laughing.


	3. Chapter 3

§ § § -- January 26, 2001

An hour later, back on the eastern end of the island, Christian, Leslie and Anna-Kristina filed into the main house, where Roarke was perusing his date book. He looked up when they came in and brightened. "Good morning, all of you!" he said, rising and coming out from behind the desk to hug Leslie and shake Christian's hand. "What brings you around here? You both look well and very happy."

"We are, Father," Leslie said cheerfully, hugging him back.

"Except for Uncle Christian's fire-flavored eggs," Anna-Kristina put in archly.

"Excuse me?" Roarke asked blankly, and Leslie and Anna-Kristina merrily told him the tale of Christian's breakfast contribution, making Roarke study his son-in-law very thoughtfully. "Tablespoons instead of teaspoons. That might add extra life to that recipe; I was raised on it. A very intriguing suggestion, Christian; I'll pass it on to Mariki."

Anna-Kristina's mouth hung open in disbelief; Leslie started to laugh, and Christian shrugged, looking pleased but less than modest. "Ah, well, it was accidental, really."

"I told you we should have invited Father over for breakfast," Leslie said, chuckling. "Our real reason for dropping in wasn't to give you a new recipe, though, Father. Christian and I are on our way over to Coral Island to do some computer shopping, and I need to get passes for us so we can come back. Anna-Kristina, on the other hand, has someone to meet."

"I see," said Roarke. "Go ahead, Leslie, you know where they are. Incidentally, Anna-Kristina, how is it that you arrived here with Leslie and Christian? I thought you were still occupying one of our bungalows."

Christian shot his niece a sly look and said, "She paid us a little visit in the small hours this morning. While I wasn't thrilled about her arrival, I have to admit to being impressed by the fact that she walked all the way out there, in the middle of the night, and with a storm on the way. She claimed it was because she needed our advice, and she didn't wish to disturb you."

Roarke gave Anna-Kristina an odd look. "You do realize that you are entitled to borrow a vehicle at any time, don't you?"

"I didn't know that," she said, abashed, "but thank you…"

"It makes no difference," Christian put in. "She can't drive anyway, Mr. Roarke." Leslie looked up from the desk drawer and chuckled softly.

"Ah," Roarke said with understanding. "Perhaps you prefer to keep the problem private, Anna-Kristina, but you should know that I am available at any time if you need any advice. I am your host, remember—and Christian and Leslie still have several days to themselves before they are required to embark upon 'real life', if you will."

Leslie laughed. "You know, Father, I think you're the only one who's understood that in all this time. Did we tell you that Arnulf actually called us and tried to get Christian to go on yet another trip hawking Lilla Jordsö and its various products?"

"How on earth did he obtain that telephone number?" Roarke asked incredulously.

"I think," said Christian blackly, "that Arnulf must have thrown his royal weight around. If I know my brother, he undoubtedly threatened the operator with some dire form of punishment if he wasn't given the number. After that we simply unplugged the phone."

"I don't blame you," Roarke said, "and I apologize. I'll find out who gave out the number and see to it that the record is set straight. Only a Fantasy Island operator would have had that information. And this on a Friday, when I am already busy with the usual weekend preparations…"

Leslie came out from behind the desk. "Father, if you need me, just say the word," she offered. "I don't mind."

Roarke smiled at her. "It's very generous of you to make the offer, child," he said warmly, "but I promised you and Christian the rest of the month, and I intend to hold to it. It will be a relatively quiet weekend in any event; I deliberately scheduled it that way so that I wouldn't have to bother either you or Julie. So both of you, do as you will with clear consciences and enjoy the remaining days of your honeymoon. If you're inclined, however, you're both welcome to join me for lunch or dinner—whichever meal you return in time to partake of. I have a few matters I'd like to discuss with you."

"Anything serious?" Christian asked.

"No, but items you both would be interested in," Roarke said. "I had it in mind to arrange some sort of work schedule; with Leslie no longer living here in the main house, some changes are inevitable if you two are to have any time at all together. And it occurs to me that you still don't know where you are to build your own home."

"Then I suggest we make it dinner," said Leslie. "That way Christian and I can take whatever time we need, and we'll have plenty of leisure to discuss all that."

"Dinner it is," Roarke agreed. "Very well, then, enjoy your shopping trip."

Christian and Leslie thanked him and headed out, with Anna-Kristina in their wake. Leslie took the wheel again and in a few minutes pulled up in front of Christian's office. The three of them headed inside, where all four of Christian's employees were at work: Julianne, Jonathan, Christian's troubleshooter—a German man by the name of Anton Lauterhoff—and Mateo. Julianne and Jonathan looked up and grinned when Christian, Leslie and Anna-Kristina entered. "Hey, Boss Prince!" Jonathan said.

Anton Lauterhoff looked up in amazement. "Where did you get that?" he asked.

Christian laughed. "It's not a problem, Anton," he said. "Just so long as they remember the 'boss' part of that, I don't care what they call me." That generated laughter, although notably, Mateo only smiled. He stood up and nodded at Leslie, who smiled back. "So how are things going in here?" Christian went on. "I'd better warn you, I'm back on Wednesday."

"Aw, nuts," Jonathan kidded, "no more wild parties. Hide the beer, Julianne."

"You two are horrible," Leslie scolded, laughing. "Just wait till Christian's in here on a regular basis."

"Nice to see you on my side, my darling," Christian remarked, chuckling. "Anyway, so tell me how things are. How was your trip to Germany, Anton?" Anton had been on vacation visiting family at the time of Christian and Leslie's wedding.

"Very good, Christian, thank you. My family seems to be well, but they didn't let me stop talking the entire visit. They had to know everything about life here on Fantasy Island. I suspect you and Mr. Roarke will be getting a visit from them one day soon, Miss Leslie."

Leslie grinned. "Hey, they're welcome anytime." She noticed Anna-Kristina fidgeting nervously beside her and caught Christian's eye, inclining her head fractionally in Mateo's direction. Christian nodded once in acknowledgment.

"Mateo, is everything going well? Are these two brats behaving themselves?" Christian asked humorously, indicating Julianne and Jonathan.

Mateo chuckled briefly. "It's not easy to keep them in line, but threats usually work," he said, making the two quads snicker loudly.

"He's a softie," Julianne said cheerfully. "He makes a great manager—he's very easy to work with. Even the 'Boss Prince' bit didn't bother him."

Christian grinned. "That's good to hear. Oh, Mateo, have you met my niece, Anna-Kristina Enstad?" Anna-Kristina gave Mateo a hopeful, if shy, smile.

Mateo's gaze shifted to her and he studied her. "Yes, I think I recall seeing you at the reception," he said in his quiet voice. "Hello again, Your Highness."

Anna-Kristina turned bright red and bit her lip. "Please just call me Anna-Kristina," she said, with an almost begging note to her tone. "I'm very happy to meet you."

Christian cleared his throat. "If you'll excuse us, Leslie and I have some computer shopping to do," he said. "Anna-Kristina, why don't you stay around here? That way, when Leslie and I return, we know where you are and can pick you up again."

"I suppose so, but you don't have to hurry, Uncle Christian," Anna-Kristina said, her eyes wide and pleading.

"In that case, we'll take our time," Leslie said. "Come on, my love, let's let these folks get back to work. Especially you two." She grinned teasingly at Jonathan and Julianne.

"We'll keep them in line, Mateo and I," Anton promised, grinning. "Enjoy your trip, and we'll see you Wednesday, Christian."

"Good enough. See you later." Christian took Leslie's hand, and they departed, leaving Anna-Kristina standing nervously in the middle of the office.

"Come sit here," Julianne invited, indicating a chair beside her desk. "I'm always outnumbered by the guys in here, and I could sure use some female company."

Anna-Kristina cast a long, wistful look at Mateo, who offered a reserved smile and resumed his seat, going back to work. She sighed gently and sat at Julianne's desk, and soon the two were getting acquainted. After a few minutes Julianne rested her chin on her fist and gave Anna-Kristina a thoughtful look.

"Listen, if I'm going too far, just tell me to shut my big mouth…but you look like you have a thing for Mateo," she said, lowering her voice.

Startled and turning red again, Anna-Kristina stared at her. "How…?"

"I saw you look at him," Julianne said. "You do, don't you?"

"How can I get to know him?" Anna-Kristina asked plaintively. "Uncle Christian and Aunt Leslie both tell me he's very private and reserved. I think if he has no interest in me, I have no chance with him."

Julianne shrugged. "It's not that big a deal," she said. "Jonathan and I treat him just like we do Anton and Boss Prince…you know, make stupid jokes and tease all the time. He doesn't laugh a lot, but it's not like he's cold and aloof. Like I told your uncle, he's a terrific manager and incredibly easy to work with. He's not as outgoing as the rest of us, but that doesn't mean anything. You should try, Anna-Kristina. If you don't, you'll wind up wishing you did. I know. I had a crush on this guy in college, and I never got up the nerve to approach him. So of course, he started seeing this girl I just absolutely hated, and just before graduation he announced they were engaged." Anna-Kristina's eyes widened, and Julianne nodded. "Believe me, next time I meet a guy I'd like to get to know, I'm going for it. You should too."

Anna-Kristina nodded slowly. "I suppose you're right. Well…tell me, where's the restroom in here?"

Julianne grinned. "You have to go past Mateo's desk to get to it," she said. "It's that door over in the corner. Take your time, I've got a weird program bug to kill." Anna-Kristina arose with a word of thanks and ventured in the general direction of the restroom, forcing herself to drift towards Mateo's desk in spite of her abdominal jitters.

Mateo looked up when she neared him. "Hello again," he said, "can I help you?"

She swallowed. "I was only going to the restroom," she said shyly.

Mateo nodded. "Just in the corner there." He returned his attention to his work, and Anna-Kristina deflated. Head down, she went off to the corner.

When she came back out, she saw Julianne first thing: the younger girl was shaking her head in remonstration. Catching Anna-Kristina's eye, she jerked her head in Mateo's direction three or four times.

Sighing inwardly, the princess thought, _She's right. I have to try…but why is it such a frightening thing to do?_ She couldn't think of any good reason to bother Mateo again, and actually stood there trying to come up with one, until when she came back to the moment, all four of her uncle's staff were looking at her.

"You okay?" Jonathan asked.

Anna-Kristina wished heartily for a sinkhole to leap into. "I'm fine," she mumbled, and Jonathan and Anton nodded and went back to work. Julianne sighed audibly and went back to whatever her problem was, and inexorably Anna-Kristina's gaze slid to Mateo—who was watching her. It was as though he'd magnetized her; she went over to his desk and hesitated beside it.

"You seem at loose ends," Mateo said. He was soft-spoken, she noted, his words calm and modulated, his face politely friendly. Only his eyes seemed to give away anything of his feelings; right now she saw confusion in them. "There are plenty of shops around here if you would like to look around."

She really didn't want to go shopping. "I must be bothering you," she said, a little cloud of gloom settling over her. "I'm very sorry, Mateo."

He eyed her in puzzlement, then smiled slightly. "Why don't you sit here," he offered unexpectedly, indicating the chair in front of his desk. "I have a break coming anyhow, so I can spare a little time. You say you're Christian's niece?"

She nodded, taking the proffered chair with hope rising crazily. "Yes, he's my father's youngest brother," she said. "I was at his wedding to Aunt Leslie, and it was simply wonderful. It's so good to see Uncle Christian so happy."

Mateo's eyes warmed. "You're close to him, aren't you?"

"Yes," Anna-Kristina said. "Ever since I can remember, he used to babysit for me as a small child, and then as I grew up, he helped me with my homework and gave me advice sometimes. I feel closer to him than to my own parents. I'm truly going to miss him now that he's living here on Fantasy Island."

Mateo smiled fully. "I can imagine." He cleared his throat. "I saw you at their wedding reception…you must have enjoyed the party very much. You danced with someone all evening long, and you seemed to be having fun."

Anna-Kristina drew in a deep breath and stuck out her neck. "I wanted to ask you for a dance," she said softly. "When I saw you, I thought you must be a good dancer."

Mateo's eyes clouded and his features closed down. "No, I don't dance," he said shortly, breaking eye contact.

"We wouldn't have had to dance," she said, a trace of desperation in her voice. "Not if you don't like to. I would have been happy to just sit and talk with you."

She was relieved when he looked up in surprise. "Oh?"

"I'm enjoying myself right now, just talking to you," she said with a shy smile.

Mateo grinned, doing crazy things to her insides. "I think I'm enjoying it as well. If you like, Anna-Kristina, you might stay and have lunch with me. I usually eat here at my desk and call an order into the sandwich shop down the street. Let me buy lunch for you, if you'd like."

Thrilled, she nodded hard. "That would be lovely, Mateo, thank you!"

"You're welcome," he said and gave her one more smile before rummaging in his desk drawer and extracting a take-out menu. "Why don't you look at this and see what you'd like, and then I'll make the call."

About half an hour later, with Julianne and Anton having gone out on a major call, their lunch arrived, and Mateo accepted the order and paid before looking past Anna-Kristina and saying, "Jonathan, go ahead and take your lunch break now."

Jonathan looked around. "You sure? I mean, there won't be anyone in here to get the phone if it rings, since Julianne and Anton are out."

"It's all right," Mateo said. "Take an hour, okay?"

Jonathan stared at him as if he'd said something in Chinese. "You're _sure?"_

"Go on," Mateo urged, smiling faintly. "It's been quiet today." When Jonathan continued to hesitate, he added, "If you don't take advantage now, I'll rescind the offer."

"Oh…well, in that case…" Jonathan jumped up and sprinted out, and Anna-Kristina broke into laughter. Mateo grinned again.

"There, that gives us a chance to talk more freely," he said. "How is your lunch?"

"Delicious," she assured him. "Tell me about you, Mateo, I'd love to know."

He shrugged. "What would you like me to say?"

"Anything," said Anna-Kristina, meaning it literally; she was hooked just on the sound of his voice. "How old are you? Were you born here on the island? Aunt Leslie said you used to work for Mr. Roarke. Do you have family around here? Do you like working for my uncle? I hope Uncle Christian's a good boss and not too harsh…"

Mateo stared at her, looking a bit steamrollered. "Forgive me…?"

Anna-Kristina caught herself and blushed yet again. She had always been able to tell when she was blushing; every inch of her skin prickled annoyingly when she did it. "I'm so sorry. Uncle Christian accused me just this morning of being a chatterbox, and he's right."

Mateo laughed softly, and Anna-Kristina was lost. Right then and there, she fell head over heels in love with him. "Well, let me see. To answer your questions, I am 36, and yes, I was born on Fantasy Island. I have no brothers or sisters, and my parents are both dead. I did work for Mr. Roarke for about fifteen years or so, but it was necessary for me to leave that job." For a moment a shadow passed over his features, and she wondered why. "Your uncle is a very generous employer. Four weeks of paid vacation to start, good benefits, and he is never intrusive, never domineering. He doesn't hover and tell us how to do our jobs. In short, he's as good an employer as Mr. Roarke, so I consider myself very fortunate in both my jobs." He focused on her. "Now, you owe me some answers."

She leaned forward, his grin captivating her. "Well, I'm 28 years old, born in Lilla Jordsö, and I have two younger sisters. Briella's going to be the next queen. I was supposed to be, but I realized I don't want the position and I'm not suited for it. So I insisted that she get the succession. Right now I'm secretary to my father…" Another blush washed over her, and she wished she were more at ease. "I can't really do anything else. You see, I don't know how to drive, and I was raised to be queen, so I wasn't really trained in any profession…oh, dear, you must think I'm truly stupid."

"Not at all," said Mateo. "So your father is King Arnulf, then? I don't know much about him, but it was my understanding that he was instrumental in keeping Miss Leslie and your uncle apart for so long. He must be a stern and unyielding man."

"Too often he is," Anna-Kristina agreed, sighing. "He uses Uncle Christian for a scapegoat, I think. He doesn't like anything Uncle Christian does, and he's always taking him away from work to go traveling as a live advertisement for Lilla Jordsö. I don't know why he does it. I can only think that he doesn't like it that Uncle Christian is his own person. He forced it, in a way, since Pappa told him that he must earn his own money. But that gave Uncle Christian a sort of freedom that Pappa can never have." She shrugged. "It made me think, when I was a teenager, that perhaps I could be like Uncle Christian. I felt trapped before, but no more. Now that the throne will go to my sister, I'm free to do as I will."

Mateo nodded thoughtfully. "In that case, what plans do you have?"

"I don't, really," she confessed reluctantly. "I'm not sure where my life is going."

Mateo studied her. "I see. Well, it's quite likely you'll marry a prince, I should think. Royalty tends to stick together mostly, doesn't it?"

"Not always. Aunt Leslie isn't royalty," Anna-Kristina protested.

"But you danced with Prince Carlono," Mateo pointed out, and on her astonished and startled look, said gently, "I'm fairly familiar with high society. After working for Mr. Roarke, who deals with it rather frequently and is comfortable in those circles himself, I could hardly be unaware of the various royal families and presidents and other such figures. In any case, you danced with Carlono, and I saw his expression. He was very taken with you, and I could see that you enjoyed being with him."

"Not as much as I would have enjoyed being with you," Anna-Kristina said baldly, her heart very much on her sleeve. "Not at all as much as I'm enjoying being with you now."

Mateo slowly stilled, looked up almost cautiously to meet her wide-eyed gaze. All she felt glistened in her eyes, and it was clear that he could read her expression perfectly: his face settled into a guarded mask and he visibly withdrew. "A princess and a commoner?" he said, softly but coolly. "It would never work."

Anna-Kristina stared at him. "It did with Uncle Christian and Aunt Leslie!"

"Miss Leslie isn't quite a commoner," said Mateo. "You understand that Mr. Roarke is the owner of this entire island, don't you? He is the highest authority here, and that makes him equal to any king, emperor, or president, even if he isn't royalty. And Miss Leslie is his daughter. Not a princess, no, but not quite a commoner. I can't boast that, Anna-Kristina." He sat back in his chair and looked away. "You'd better go back to that prince."

"I won't," she said stubbornly, though she had already begun to cry. "I don't want a prince, Mateo. I want only you, but you won't have me, so I want no one." She stumbled to her feet and fled.

Mateo watched her go, feeling as if he had just drowned a kitten in a rain barrel, but convinced it was the only thing he could possibly do. She was a princess, and he was just another face in the crowd. _A flawed face, at that,_ he thought. _She thinks she loves me, I can see it when she looks at me. But what woman in her station would ever have a man who limps and is afflicted with a disease that has no cure?_ It was better that he disillusion her now, before she got too attached to the idea that she loved him…and before he let himself fall for her in return.


	4. Chapter 4

§ § § -- January 26, 2001

Two hours later Christian and Leslie returned; Jonathan had come back from lunch, but Anton and Julianne were still out. "I still can't believe they had to call the military police," Christian was saying to Leslie as they entered the office, making Jonathan and Mateo both look up. "Myeko's story must have reached every corner of the planet. I don't think we'll ever be able to leave Fantasy Island again."

"I bet that wouldn't bother you," Leslie said, grinning, and he chuckled in agreement. "It was really strange, having people recognize us as if we were movie stars or something. You know, Father did tell us we should keep an eye on the media, but we never did."

"What happened, Miss Leslie?" Jonathan asked.

"We got mobbed," Leslie told him, half laughing. "That interview we gave Myeko for the _Chronicle_ apparently hit every country on earth, and that includes the most remote corners. Coral Island turned out to be no exception. We had teenage girls swooning over Christian, and little old ladies with tears in their eyes talking about how they just loved our love story, and more than a few Air Force recruits eyeing me…"

"Whoa," said Jonathan, amazed. "So did you get your computer, Boss Prince?"

Christian burst out laughing. "No, unfortunately, we never got that far. We stepped off the ferry over there and were immediately surrounded by people who must have seen the photo that Myeko's friend Gordy took for the article. I suppose I'll just have to sit in here and order it online; there's no way I can buy one directly and take it home to tinker with."

"Just as well," Leslie said mischievously. "After all your bellyaching about how no one seems to remember we're still on our honeymoon, now you're about to forget it yourself. If I have anything to say about it, you're not getting your hands on any computers till you have to come back to work next Wednesday."

"Not even to order one that won't arrive for at least the last five days we have?" asked Christian, in the manner of a little boy wheedling his mother.

Leslie pretended to consider it, then gave Christian a comically stern look. "Maybe if you're a very good boy," she said. Her lips twitched, and he put on such an angelic look that she exploded with mirth. "You were right, Christian, my love, you _are_ incorrigible!"

"Told you so, my Rose," he said with cheerful smugness, then looked around the office in curiosity. "Where's Anna-Kristina?"

"Got me," said Jonathan, shrugging. "She was gone when I got back from lunch."

"Mateo, did you see my niece leave?" Christian asked.

Mateo looked up, his face inscrutable. "I'm sorry, Christian, I don't know where she went." He immediately went back to work.

Christian and Leslie looked at each other. "All right, then, we'll try to find her," he said, shrugging. "Thank you both…and I'll see you next week."

"Thought you were going to order a computer," Leslie teased him.

Christian looked at her with exaggerated amazement. "You mean you were actually going to let me?" he retorted, cracking her up all over again. Grinning, he hugged her and then wrapped an arm around her to escort her to Julianne's currently unattended computer. "I suppose I'd better do it now while you're still of a generous mind, my darling. Uh, Mateo, when you have a few minutes, I'd like to see the records of the calls we've had since the sixteenth. And Jonathan, did those two overdue accounts pay up yet?"

"One did," Jonathan said. "I call the other one twice a day now. Hate to say it, Boss Prince, but I think the next step is calling a collection service."

Christian sighed and looked ruefully at his wife. "This is the fun part of running a business," he remarked, and she giggled. "Are you sure you want to stay in here and watch me do this?"

"If I leave you in here, you'll probably stay till closing time, since you've already gone and asked a couple of business questions as it is," Leslie observed. "It looks to me as if I'm going to be competing with these darn machines for you from now till doomsday. When I'm 85 and you're 92, I'll probably walk in from the garden and find you keeled over in front of whatever passes for a computer by then, and we'll have to bury you with one."

"Better yet," Jonathan broke in with a smirk, "get him a headstone shaped like a monitor, and you can carve his name and stats on the screen. 'Christian Enstad, 1958-2050. Born a prince, died a computer geek.' "

"_Herregud,"_ said Christian in amused disbelief, while Leslie shouted with laughter. "I could have you fired for that, Jonathan Ichino. At the very least, I might take back your Christmas bonus. Now Leslie, my Rose, it wasn't that funny."

"Oh yes it was," she assured him, still laughing. "Face it, my darling, the kid has you pegged. You'd better start ordering your dream machine before I change my mind."

"Besides, my Christmas bonus is already spent," Jonathan said, making Christian finally lose his cool too and join Leslie in her merriment. He grinned. "Come on, Boss Prince, admit it—you secretly like the idea of a monitor-shaped headstone."

"Knock it off, Jonathan Ichino, or you'll be the one who needs the headstone," Leslie said, shaking her head. "Good grief, if this is a daily occurrence in here, it's a miracle any work ever gets done. Does your mother know you're like this?" Jonathan laughed.

"Mateo, did you find the—" Christian began, looking up, then cutting himself off abruptly. "Mateo?"

Leslie and Jonathan followed his gaze: Mateo had fallen forward on the desk. Jonathan sat up straight. "Uh-oh, it happened again."

"I think it might be his narcolepsy," Leslie said, jumping to her feet and half running across the room. She examined him and nodded. "He's just asleep. I think he'll wake up in a minute or two."

"What did you say he has?" Christian asked.

"Narcolepsy," Leslie repeated. "I told you he had that when you hired him last year, my love. He takes medication for it, but it flares up anyway. He told Father that when he came in to resign his job."

Christian frowned in concern. "I see," he said. "Is he all right otherwise?"

Mateo lifted his head at that moment and looked around with some confusion, then groaned and rested his head in his hands. "It happened again, didn't it, Miss Leslie?"

"I don't think you were out very long, Mateo," she said. "You aren't hurt, are you?"

"No," Mateo said, sitting up and sighing. "Please accept my apologies, Christian…just when I think I have this thing under control, it proves me wrong."

Christian regarded him oddly for a moment. "Why are you apologizing? As I understand it, you're doing the best you can to cope with it, and if it sometimes gets beyond your abilities, it's not your fault. How do you feel otherwise?"

"I do have a bit of a headache," Mateo admitted reluctantly, "but I can take some aspirin for it and get through a full day of work. Christian, you and Miss Leslie shouldn't even be here."

"He's right," Jonathan said. "You made a big deal out of still being on your honeymoon, so you really oughta get outta here and find your niece."

"Christian, my darling, leave the computer for another day," Leslie said gently, going back to her husband. "Jonathan's right, we need to look for Anna-Kristina."

"Hmm," mumbled Christian, who had seen over her shoulder the fleeting look of regret on Mateo's face before he schooled his expression and doggedly went back to work. "Yes, maybe we should. All right, my Rose…Mateo, Jonathan, have a good weekend."

Outside the office, Christian and Leslie looked at each other. "I have a feeling," said Christian with concern, "that something may have happened between Mateo and Anna-Kristina…something not very positive."

Leslie nodded, tucking her hand into his. "I think you're right. Tell you what, let's go back to the main house…maybe Father's seen her."

But Roarke was alone there, and he gave them a quizzical look when they entered. "I thought you would be gone longer than that," he said. "Was the trip successful?"

"No," Leslie said with a rueful grin, "we never got as far as the shopping mall." She and Christian took turns telling him what had happened on Coral Island, and he burst into laughter at the tale.

"Ah, the vagaries of being famous," he teased them. "If you give it a little time, you'll soon find that the world's interest has moved on to other things, and you'll have a semblance of peace once more."

"That would be nice," Christian said through a sigh. "Mr. Roarke, we actually came to ask you something…have you seen Anna-Kristina? She wasn't in my office when Leslie and I returned, and something tells me she may be upset."

Roarke regarded him thoughtfully, put down his pen and slowly sat back in his chair. "Please, sit down, both of you," he requested, and Christian and Leslie seated themselves in the leather chairs in front of the desk. "Anna-Kristina was here quite a while ago, in fact, and you are correct, Christian—she was upset. While she made little sense due to a fair amount of emotional hysteria, I did glean the impression that she believes herself to be in love with Mateo Apana, and that he 'rejected' her…for lack of a better word."

Christian and Leslie looked at each other in amazement. "That doesn't sound like Mateo at all," Leslie said. "Is that what she said?"

Roarke nodded. "I believe she stated it in so many words at least once. Tell me, had she met Mateo before this morning?"

"She told us she saw him at our wedding reception," Christian explained, "but that she didn't really meet him then. Apparently Arcolos' Prince Carlono has taken a particular interest in her and monopolized her attentions that night. Unfortunately, it seems that she's far more drawn to Mateo than Carlono, and I don't know if they can find enough in common to build a relationship on. Their personalities are fundamentally different. I'm sure you're familiar with Mateo's demeanor, Mr. Roarke, since he used to work for you. Anna-Kristina is quite nearly his polar opposite. She's outgoing and very chatty—she'll talk your ear off if you let her—and due mainly to her upbringing, she has a surprising naïveté about her. She was raised to be queen, never really trained to live in the outside world and do for herself as her cousins were. Sometimes I think it was a mistake for her to give up the throne, but she was adamant about it, and Gabriella was delirious at being handed the succession. And I have to admit, I think Briella will be a better queen, simply because she's so enthusiastic about it. I suspect she wants to improve on Arnulf's performance."

Roarke chuckled. "I understand, Christian, and you're correct again about Mateo being quite different from Anna-Kristina. I don't believe I have ever met a more private person than he. Aside from that, in regard to your mention that Anna-Kristina is rather naïve, that is another daunting difference between them. Mateo has worked very hard ever since he completed his schooling; and as you are both well aware, he gradually developed narcolepsy, which led to the accident that forced him to quit his job with us. Mateo could be said to be world-weary, I think; he has been through much, but he somehow absorbs the blows and finds a way to go on. I find it very interesting that your niece is so strongly drawn to him. Did he indicate in any way that he had an interest in her?"

"Not that we could see," Leslie said, "but then again we didn't really see them together. Father, what happened to her after she left here?"

"I don't know," Roarke said with quiet regret, glancing out the shutters. "She left via the terrace and hasn't returned. I got the sense that she needed to work out her emotions on her own, but it occurs to me that she may need your help."

Christian blew out his breath and slumped a little in his chair. "Yet another interruption," he murmured with grumpy resignation. "That girl is going to be the death of me, I think. She's closer to me than to her own parents; Arnulf and Kristina tended to frequent every formal and official function they received invitations to when they were first married, and Kristina's pregnancies didn't slow them down much. I was fourteen when Anna-Kristina was born, and Arnulf and Kristina took advantage of that and unofficially appointed me her nanny, if you will." He took in Leslie's sympathetic smile and Roarke's interested gaze, and said, "Don't get me wrong; she's my favorite niece, and the fact that I so often found myself taking care of her made us very close. She was always a remarkably cheerful and bubbly child, very warm and giving, reaching out to people without restraint. That alone would have made her the most popular queen in Lilla Jordsö's history. I don't know how on earth she turned out that way. It must have been some basic facet of her personality; I really can't figure it out."

Leslie smiled, reaching out and catching his hand in hers. "I have a feeling you had a lot of influence on her too, my love. You gave her the attention she should have gotten from her parents, and maybe that's as well, because your personality seems to have imprinted itself on her much more strongly than Arnulf's."

"That's a blessing," Christian said wryly. "We really don't need any more distant, aloof royals in this family of mine. Gerhard is another example, fortunately. He was never as ebullient as Anna-Kristina, but he was certainly reachable. Once he married Liselotta, he grew even more so, because he's so happy with her."

"As you are with Leslie," Roarke pointed out with a smile. "I've seen a change in you as well, Christian. On those occasions you came to visit, before you and Leslie were married, you always had a certain subtle tension about you, a wariness that completely disappeared only around her. Now I can see you're more relaxed, for you are secure in your marriage, and that reflects in your aura." He grinned at Christian's astounded expression. "It seems you yourself weren't aware of that, but believe me, it's true."

"Father sees a lot of things the rest of us miss," Leslie said, grinning at her husband. "The question," she added, sobering, "is whether we can help Anna-Kristina achieve that same happiness and security. I'm not sure we can do very much."

"Anna-Kristina's problem is that her emotions are almost always very much out in the open," Christian said. "She telegraphs everything so clearly, you can read her from across the room—whereas Mateo is so reticent, you sometimes wonder if he feels anything at all. It's rare that he joins in the office banter—which, believe me, Mr. Roarke, is relentless and at times overwhelming. He's not unfriendly, just fairly remote."

Roarke nodded. "That may be too large a gap to bridge," he observed gently. "All you can do is give her moral support and let her work things out on her own." He glanced at the clock. "Since you two are here, perhaps you would be willing to discuss those issues I mentioned earlier?"

"Particularly about the work schedule," Leslie said, nodding. "Christian and I were talking about that this morning, and he said that since I work weekends, he probably will too, since we wouldn't see much of each other, if anything."

Roarke nodded. "That was my thought as well," he said and smiled. "It appears we are all on the same wavelength here. Since Monday and Tuesday are our quietest days and you often find yourself with free time anyhow, Leslie, I see no reason you can't have those two days off from now on. You might wish to arrange things so that those two days will be your 'weekend' as well, Christian."

Christian nodded. "That sounds good," he said. "I had another thought. I realize that vehicles are vastly outnumbered by bicycles and pedestrians on this island, Mr. Roarke, but I am more often out of the office than in; the bulk of my work is on-location. If there is any way Leslie and I could have access to a car, there's no reason we can't share it—after all, she probably would drive your vehicles more often than our own."

"True," Leslie said, "and I was thinking. Depending on where we finally wind up building our home, it could be quite a commute, at least for the weekends. I could sleep here, in my old room, on Saturday and Sunday nights, and maybe Fridays as well, so that I'd be here when you need me in the course of a weekend. Christian could drop me off Friday evening, and then after we see the guests off on Monday mornings, I'd be free to go back home for my two days off."

Christian's eyes went wide with mock horror. "You'd spend three nights a week, out of seven, sleeping here rather than in our home? You wound me, my Rose!"

Roarke's dark eyes were impish. "Tell me, Christian, has it not occurred to you that it might well give your marriage a little extra spice? You'd look forward to Leslie's return each Monday, and savor the time you have together. It would be impossible for either of you to take the other's presence for granted under those circumstances, and it's my strong belief that your marriage would greatly benefit by it."

Christian stared at him for a long moment, processing this; then his expression grew thoughtful, his eyes lighting with intrigue. "Now that you put it that way, Mr. Roarke, there might be something to Leslie's crazy idea after all." He grinned at his wife's playful, cross-eyed grimace and squeezed her hand, which he was still holding. "I see no reason we can't try it once we're back from our honeymoon. But if this is going to be standard procedure, then I think it would be a good idea for Leslie and me to sneak back to our hideaway as soon as we possibly can and make the very most of our remaining time. Not only that, it would force Anna-Kristina to work things out for herself."

"You're so sure of that, my love?" Leslie asked knowingly. "She'd just find a way to come back and hound us for still more advice."

"Is she truly that dependent on you, Christian?" Roarke asked.

Christian went still, his gaze turning inward as he thought back. "Perhaps so," he said slowly. "I think I mentioned that she's fundamentally naïve because of her upbringing. And come to think of it, as a child she was full of questions—all of which I answered for her. Granted, sometimes she threw me a tough one and I'd bluff it out…" That got him laughs from Roarke and Leslie. "But now that I realize this, I think you're right; she's so accustomed to coming to me for all her answers that she's never stopped doing it. And this time I'm afraid I'm not the fountain of knowledge she's always depended on."

"You may have to cut her off cold turkey, Christian," Leslie said gently, squeezing his hand. "You shouldn't be expected to have all the solutions to her romantic puzzles."

"Leslie's right," Roarke agreed. "This is one question your niece will have to answer herself."

Christian nodded. "I know you're both right, but I have to admit, the only thing that keeps my conscience from insisting that I owe her my help is the fact that she's the latest in a string of interruptions of our honeymoon." He grinned at their chuckles. "Well, Leslie, my Rose, I think the next thing on our agenda is to look around for some place to build our house. It _had_ occurred to me that perhaps we could build here on the lane…"

Roarke and Leslie went alert, stared at each other for a moment, then at Christian, who looked back with increasing uncertainty. "A bad idea?" he asked.

"I wouldn't call it that, Christian," Roarke said delicately, "but—"

Leslie leaned over to pin him with a look from behind her bangs, a twinkle in her eyes. "Christian, my love, let's put it this way. Not only do we deserve privacy, so does Father."

Christian went limp in the chair and closed his eyes, groaning softly. _"Herregud_, what's wrong with me? Do you two see me choking on my own foot here?" Leslie and Roarke both burst out laughing, and he grinned, reddening. "My most heartfelt apologies, Mr. Roarke…that was not one of my more inspired ideas. Since Leslie knows the island far better than I do, I'll bow to her judgment, assuming she has any thoughts in mind."

Leslie had a strange look on her face, and Roarke and Christian both focused on her with interest. "Now that you mention it," she said slowly, "I might actually have one. Father, if you don't mind excusing us, I need to show Christian something, and drop in on Grady and Maureen if they're home."

"By all means," Roarke agreed, "although if you will, please do return for supper; I'd like very much to hear what you have in mind and whether it works out."

"We will," Leslie promised and tugged at Christian's hand, rising. "Come on, my love, there's a place I want you to see."


	5. Chapter 5

§ § § -- January 26, 2001

Anna-Kristina had managed to talk one of Roarke's employees into driving her back to Christian and Leslie's current residence, but to her disbelief they weren't there. In a quandary and needing some counseling, she had the ever-patient driver take her back to Amberville and Christian's office there. As it happened, they weren't there either—only Mateo and Jonathan were in, and by now it was late afternoon and they were getting ready to go home for the day. "Sorry, Your Highness, Boss Prince isn't here," Jonathan said.

Anna-Kristina grinned; she liked this kid, with his rollicking sense of humor. "I can't seem to find Uncle Christian and Aunt Leslie anywhere," she said with a little sigh. "Did they ever come back here, then?"

"Sure did," Jonathan said, nodding. "They were here a little while, and Boss Prince almost bought a computer on line, and then Miss Leslie talked him out of it and they left. They said something about looking for you, but obviously they didn't find you."

Anna-Kristina reddened. "No, that's true. Maybe I'll see them later on. Am I disturbing you? You look as if you want to leave."

"It's almost closing time," Jonathan said, shrugging. "No big deal, really. Hey, Mateo, you about ready?"

"Nearly," said Mateo absently, clearly engrossed in something at his desk. "If you want to leave, Jonathan, go ahead. Anton and Julianne won't be back today."

"Okay, see you Monday," Jonathan said and gave Anna-Kristina a playful bow, which made her laugh, before departing. Anna-Kristina bit her lip, suddenly uncomfortable, and decided perhaps she too should leave. Then she caught a movement and turned to see Mateo rising from his desk. Their gazes met, and he stared at her as if just now aware she was there. Neither moved for a long moment.

"I'm sorry," Mateo then said, ultra-polite. "Christian isn't here."

"I know," Anna-Kristina said.

He nodded. "I'm going to close down for the day."

"Don't let me stop you," Anna-Kristina retorted, hurt by his distant manner. But she couldn't resist watching him while he shut down his computer, tidied his desk and shrugged on his suit jacket before starting for the door. And then her eyes were glued to him for an entirely different reason. Her mouth fell open without her realizing it, as she watched him make his way toward the entrance.

"How did it happen?" she asked.

Mateo stopped in his tracks, saw where her gaze was directed and scowled all of a sudden. "My limp, you mean? You may as well know, _Princess_. I was in a very bad car accident several years ago and spent a few months in the hospital. I'll never walk without a limp again." He waited till she raised her eyes to meet his and saw the cold glitter in them. "Just so you know what you think you want—and as if that weren't enough, I also have narcolepsy, which is the reason I had the accident in the first place. There's no cure for it." Again, he waited; but she was so stunned she couldn't move and just went on staring at him. His expression shut down entirely. "It's time to close. If you don't mind…"

Looking dazed, she drifted toward the door while Mateo waited in stony silence; as soon as she had let herself out, he followed her and locked the door behind her. By the time he had turned around, Anna-Kristina's face, too, had acquired a shuttered, chilly look.

"Perhaps you're right, Mateo Apana," she said, with the regal, distant formality of her royal station, all her natural ebullience gone. "It seems I didn't know what I really wanted. I thank you for helping me to see things more clearly." Lifting her chin, she pivoted on one foot and walked away from him, without looking back. For once she truly looked and acted like the princess she was; Mateo could almost see a crown on her head. His mouth went dry and he stared helplessly after her. Had he gone too far? He shook his head once, turned and started on the mile-long walk to his home.

‡ ‡ ‡

"It was the perfect solution, Father," Leslie said excitedly over dinner. "I can't believe I didn't think of it before. I drove Christian out to the Enclave and down the lane where Grady and Maureen live. I'd thought I remembered some cleared land over there, and I was right: it's right across the lane from their house. The elevation on that lot is slightly lower than Grady and Maureen's property, but there's enough clearance that we'd have a perfect view out to the ocean from our second story, and since the Enclave's just across the Ring Road from the water anyway, we could hear the waves rolling in, especially at night when sounds carry better. And best of all, Christian loved it."

Christian laughed at her enthusiasm and nodded. "It's an incredibly attractive lot, and all those flowering trees surrounding it make a perfect frame for the house I have in mind to build. It didn't take long for us to make our decision, and then we crossed the road to drop in on the Hardings. Grady being a lawyer, he was able to get the answer to our question in almost no time. The lot isn't owned by anyone, and he agreed to help us clear all the paperwork so that we can acquire the land and start building on it."

"Grady even knows an architect who can translate Christian's sketches into blueprints," Leslie concluded. "He's over on Coral Island, but that shouldn't be a problem; he can come over here and we can meet him at Grady's office."

"Excellent!" said Roarke, impressed. "Very good work, both of you. I know the lot you have in mind, Leslie. It had originally been part of the estate that Maureen had inherited from the late Russell St. Anthony; when Claude Duncan purchased the mansion decades ago, he divided the land into two lots and relinquished claim to the one you two are looking to buy." He smiled. "It works out particularly well for you, Leslie, since you will have one of your friends as a neighbor once the house is built and you and Christian move in."

"Grady seems a personable sort," Christian remarked. "I liked him right away. To tell you the truth, Mr. Roarke, once Leslie and I are finally forced out of our seclusion, it will be good to get to know her friends' husbands." He caught Leslie's hand. "It sounds incredible, I know, but my station in life tended to preclude my developing friendships with anyone else. I had a few good friends in school, but the older we got, the more aware they became of my royal status, and those friendships eventually fell apart. And I never had much of a chance to make friends during my military stint, since I did only the bare minimum requirement in order to comply with the law. When I came here and met Leslie, and she accepted me without reservations, I realized that I had a true friend for the first time since childhood. And the fact that my friend and my wife are one and the same person is a bonus."

"That," Roarke said, taking in their soft smiles at each other, "is the true reason I know for certain that your marriage will be a very long and happy one. Before anything else, you were friends: and a romance that grows from and includes a solid friendship is the most lasting kind of all. As long as you are each other's best friend, all else is the proverbial icing on the cake. Christian, I have no worries at all about my daughter now that she has you, for I know you'll take all the best care of her, and she of you in return."

Christian and Leslie both returned his smile, and then Leslie remarked impishly, "But of course, guys have to hang out with other guys, just like us girls need to get together now and then. So it'll do Christian good to join the inner circle. My friends have been lucky because all their husbands have become friends as an extension of being married to them. And I remember how they all welcomed Christian last year at the big Y2K party, so there'll be no problem for him settling in here."

"It will be interesting," Christian agreed thoughtfully. "They all did seem like very decent fellows." He looked at Roarke, then at Leslie, and said, "I look forward to the future, for the first time since I can remember."

"Well," said a sharp voice, "I'm glad someone can look forward to something." They all looked around, staring at Anna-Kristina as she stalked across the porch in their direction. "Uncle Christian, Aunt Leslie, I've been looking everywhere for you."

"We wondered what happened to you, too," Christian returned pointedly. "Since you ran off long before we got back, how were we supposed to know where you went?"

"Are you all right, Anna-Kristina?" Roarke asked.

She nodded. "Of course," she said. "Thank you, Mr. Roarke. Uncle Christian, Aunt Leslie, I hope you don't mind if I return with you this evening…I need to talk."

Christian stared at the ceiling fan overhead and said in _jordiska, "Må sanktarna hålla plass till mej._ My patience is fast reaching its end, Anna-Kristina. What is it you simply have to come to us to talk about?"

"What's that you said?" Leslie asked curiously.

"A saying we have in _jordiska_ when we've endured all we can stand. It means 'may the saints hold a place for me'. And I'm going to need it." Christian sighed heavily. "If you want to talk, Anna-Kristina, why can't you do it right here?"

"Perhaps I can be of assistance," Roarke offered. "Christian, if you and Leslie wish to leave, by all means, you may do so now if you're so inclined."

But Anna-Kristina shook her head. "This is something I need to talk to Aunt Leslie about," she said. "A girl thing, I think you would say."

Christian groaned loudly and rested his elbow on the table with a thud, letting his head fall into his hand and scrubbing the upper half of his face, his eyes screwed shut. "Maybe someday I'll laugh about this, but right now all I see is what's left of my honeymoon slipping through my fingers."

Leslie, grinning indulgently, got to her feet and leaned over from behind his chair, wrapping her arms loosely around his shoulders and pressing a kiss to the side of his head. "We'll work it out, my love, I promise. I'll think of something, okay?" She lifted her head and addressed Roarke. "I'm sorry, Father, but Christian has an excellent point, so I'm afraid you're not going to see hide nor hair of us till Wednesday—not if I can arrange this little plea-bargain I have in mind with Anna-Kristina. I hope you don't mind."

Roarke chuckled. "Not at all, Leslie. Both of you, have a good evening and a safe drive home, and we'll talk again next week."

Christian cast Roarke a rueful smile of farewell, pushed back his chair and got up to follow his wife across the porch. "If you're coming, Anna-Kristina, you'd better move."

"Are you angry with me, Uncle Christian?" she asked a bit timidly.

Christian sighed. "Anna-Kristina, you know I normally don't mind helping you out when I can…but your timing leaves very much to be desired. If it were up to me, I'd have insisted you stay here, and if you absolutely had to have Leslie's advice, you would have asked her while we were still at the table and we would have left you behind. But you seem to think that this warrants yet another intrusion on us. You're lucky Leslie is so indulgent with you. Of course, if she knew you as I do…" He gave her a look, but its severity was blunted by the gleam in his eye. Anna-Kristina saw it, and he knew she saw it.

"Are you two finished bickering?" Leslie asked teasingly, pausing beside the rover she and Christian had been using. "Anna-Kristina, you sit in back here. I have a proposition for you, which with any luck will smooth your uncle's ruffled feathers, give you a little peace of mind, and let us have our honeymoon back."

"Hmm," Christian said, his expression intrigued. "I can't wait to hear this."

Once they were on the Ring Road, with Leslie at the wheel, she broached her idea. "Anna-Kristina, whatever your question is, I'll give you half an hour, all right? We'll sit out on the deck and try to work it out. Christian, my love, I think a nice swim in the ocean would relax you and help cool you down, and give you another chance to get out onto that beach the way you've mentioned at least a dozen times across this week." She grinned at him, and he had to laugh. "When he comes back, Anna-Kristina, whether we've found a solution or not, that's it. I'll give Father a call and have him send a driver out to pick you up, and that's the last you'll see of your uncle and me till the middle of next week—absolutely no exceptions. Christian's right: we've endured too many interruptions. We've been trying to make up for four and a half years of forced separation, and between that interview, your father's demands that Christian stump for his country—soon to be his former country, as a matter of fact—and you insisting that we're the only ones who can give you useful advice, even I've had more than I can put up with. So this is your last chance."

Christian twisted in the seat far enough to get a bead on Anna-Kristina. "I hope you understand all that. After this, whatever you're having trouble with, either go and talk to Mr. Roarke—who, I might point out, has made the offer more than once—or work through it on your own. It's really time you learned to do that anyway. Once you return home, you won't be able to come running to me every time you have a question."

Anna-Kristina looked a little stunned, but she nodded contritely. "I understand, Uncle Christian, really, I do. I'm going to miss you badly when I have to go home."

Christian smiled. "I know, and I'll miss you too, _Kattersprinsessan_. We both will. I think the break will be good for you, though. Since you're not going to be queen and you want the chance to be independent and to break the apron strings, you've got to learn to think for yourself and find your own solutions. All right?" He waited for her nod, winked at her and turned back around again.


	6. Chapter 6

§ § § -- January 26, 2001

A little less than ten minutes later Leslie pulled into the long secluded drive that led to Glen Cottage, and they all stretched when they got out of the car. "That swim you talked about sounds good, my Rose," Christian said, glancing toward the wooden steps built atop a rocky rise that separated the house from its beach. On the other side the same steps led down to the sand; anyone on the beach could easily be seen from the deck. "I'll just get changed, and you and Anna-Kristina can go ahead and have your chat."

Just as Leslie and Anna-Kristina settled themselves into deck chairs with glasses of lemonade, Christian came out of the house clad in a T-shirt and shorts, and paused long enough to tilt Leslie's head back and plant a firm kiss on her mouth. "Half an hour, right, my Rose?" he asked.

"You got it, my love," she said with a smile. "Enjoy your swim." He smiled back and strode across the deck, toward a bridge that met up with the stairway at the top of the rocky divide. Leslie watched him till he started to descend the stairs on the other side, then turned to Anna-Kristina and inquired, "Okay, what's the matter?"

"Did you know that Mateo has a limp, and some odd disease I can't pronounce?" the princess asked, leaning forward in her chair.

"You mean narcolepsy?" said Leslie. "Yes, I knew. He used to be one of Father's drivers. When he'd finally recovered from that accident, he came to us and quit his job. We were sorry to see him go, but we knew he was right."

"I don't understand," Anna-Kristina said. "What's narc…narco…"

"Narcolepsy," Leslie repeated, pronouncing the word slowly and carefully. "It's an unpredictable sleep disorder. There are medicines for it, but they don't fully control the disease, and there's no cure. It causes Mateo to suddenly drop off to sleep out of nowhere, at any time. He has no way of knowing when it'll happen. It was the cause of his accident in the first place, and after that he insisted he wasn't going to endanger Father, me, or anyone else because of it. He's never owned a car, but now he refuses to drive at all."

Anna-Kristina looked stricken. "How horrible."

Leslie nodded. "He does his best; he's a very hard worker, and Christian could see that when he hired him. Of course, while he knew Mateo had the disease, he'd never been here till now to see it actually flare up. But I know he won't have a problem working around it. Mateo's too good a worker for that."

"But…but he's flawed," Anna-Kristina said, looking away. "I found out this afternoon myself, when I came to Uncle Christian's office looking for you. He was getting ready to close for the day, and when he walked to the door, I saw his limp. That's when he told me where it came from and that he had that disease." She met Leslie's gaze. "He wanted nothing to do with me earlier today at lunch, and now I see that's for the best. I guess I should just go on home, shouldn't I? After all, Prince Carlono had to return to Arcolos yesterday, and he is still very interested in me…and I should let him court me. He has no flaws, and he is royalty, so he and I have that in common."

Leslie was staring at her. "Flaws, Anna-Kristina?"

"A princess can't marry someone with such problems," Anna-Kristina said matter-of-factly, as if this were common knowledge. "My father would certainly disapprove, and he would be right. It's for the best that Mateo told me about this." She shrugged and let her gaze wander out towards the ocean.

Leslie studied her for a few minutes, wondering if Christian knew about this facet of his niece, and able to see that in spite of Anna-Kristina's dismissal of the conundrum, it was affecting her emotionally. Narrowing her eyes a bit in contemplation, she decided to press the issue. "Father says you thought you were in love with Mateo, and you certainly had a torch for him when you barged in on Christian and me this morning."

Anna-Kristina shrugged. "That was before I knew."

"Look at me, Anna-Kristina," Leslie said deliberately, and waited till the princess had reluctantly turned back to her. "Tell me the truth, and don't try to hide anything from me. I want your complete honesty, do you understand? In spite of whatever 'flaws' you think Mateo has, you'd still rather be with him than with Prince Carlono, wouldn't you?"

Anna-Kristina didn't reply, but Leslie had her answer all the same in the faint trembling of the princess' chin, the torment in her blue eyes. Their gazes held for a good thirty seconds; then Anna-Kristina lifted her chin and looked away again. "It doesn't matter, Aunt Leslie. It would never be permitted for me and Mateo to be together. It's for the best that it worked out so." She shrugged again. "Prince Carlono likes me, and I like him; he's a lovely person and it's easy to be around him. And he can dance."

Leslie stared at her, astonished. "And those are your criteria for his acceptability?"

There must have been a note in her voice that broke through Anna-Kristina's façade, for the younger woman turned to her then and cried, "Do you want me to say I don't care? That it doesn't matter what's wrong with Mateo? I can't help being who I am, Aunt Leslie, I'm my father's daughter! I already told you I like Carlono, and I know that if I give him a chance, I can learn to love him." Unexpectedly she let out a sob. "Besides, Mateo doesn't want me anyway, do you know that? He told me it would never work between us, and when I saw him this afternoon, he was just as cold as a glacier. Do you think that's the sign of a man who likes me?"

Leslie blinked and half fell back in her chair from the force of the onslaught. "No, I suppose it's not…"

Before she could go on, Anna-Kristina gave one sharp nod. "Exactly so. I think we should call this matter closed. I have to get on with my life, and Uncle Christian is right; it's time I started to do that." She cleared her throat and smiled, so brightly that Leslie knew it was only a front. "Don't worry about me, I'll be fine, I promise you."

"You can always e-mail us, Anna-Kristina," Leslie said, sitting up again. "You know that, don't you? Christian hasn't replaced his computer yet, but when he does, we'll send you a message, and you can still talk to us that way."

"I know. I'll miss you, Aunt Leslie. I'm so glad you're my aunt now, and you're as easy to talk to as Uncle Christian is." Anna-Kristina grinned, more genuinely, and Leslie decided she might as well drop the original problem. It looked as if the princess had no wish to dwell on it, and Leslie had the feeling that any further pursuit of the subject would meet only with dismissal. "Do you know anything about Prince Carlono?"

"Uh…well, only what Queen Michiko's told me," Leslie said thoughtfully. "He was born in 1966, I think, and he's considered the Bartolomé family bachelor. You've probably heard about his various relationships; he's had a lot of girlfriends over the years. You know, jet-setters, heiresses, movie stars sometimes…"

"But never a princess," Anna-Kristina said, "right?"

"Not that I remember," Leslie said. "If he's started showing an interest in you, a fellow royal, it might mean he's at least considering settling down finally."

Anna-Kristina giggled. "He should certainly consider it, yes! He's too old to be a playboy any longer, and if he wants to get serious about me, he'd better stop playing around. I want him to have the sort of feeling for me that Uncle Christian has for you. I know he'll never look at any woman but you, and that's what I want from Carlono." She gazed into the sky, a dreamy expression on her face. "I want to have the kind of wedding that you and Uncle Christian had, to write my own vows and express my true feelings for my new husband, and to hear him express his true feelings for me, and to know he will love me and only me for all our days. And to be able to get away to a secret place where we'll have only each other, just as you and Uncle Christian do…"

She kept talking, but Leslie no longer heard. Her gaze was riveted on the figure just emerging from the ocean some distance below. She watched entranced as Christian stooped to gather his discarded T-shirt and shorts from the sand where he had dropped them, then start back toward the house. Faintly Anna-Kristina's voice carried to her, going on about her dream husband extending all sorts of romantic gestures, but she hardly heard the words; and when Christian topped the rocky rise and started along the bridge back to the deck, nothing else existed for Leslie. Slowly she pushed herself out of her chair and drifted to the spot where the bridge extended from the deck, gaping mesmerized at her husband the whole while. Christian, brushing sand from his feet every step or two and absently rubbing his sea-soaked hair with his T-shirt, didn't take full notice of her till he reached the deck; then he stopped and took in her spellbound look, a slow smile tugging at his lips.

"You look as if you've never seen me before," he remarked.

"Not like that," she said dazedly, her eyes sweeping the length of his body. Seawater still clung to his skin, darkened the form-fitting swimsuit he wore, dripped from his legs and out of his hair. "Oh, Christian, you're beautiful…"

Christian grinned. "No more so than you, my Rose. I think you've been enchanted."

She didn't reply, just went to him, removed the shirt and shorts from his hands and dropped them unheeding to the deck, and pressed herself against him, kissing him deeply. It took no more than that to drag Christian under the same spell, and he responded instantly and avidly, neither caring that he was getting her almost as wet as he was.

Anna-Kristina had stopped chattering when Leslie got up, and had been watching them the whole time, amazed at the transformation in her aunt the moment Christian had appeared on the scene. This, she thought, was exactly what she dreamed of experiencing herself one day. Maybe it was time to leave them to themselves. "Aunt Leslie," she said, but got no response from either Christian or Leslie. She raised her voice. "Aunt Leslie!"

Christian gave a mild start and broke from his wife, peering at his niece as if he'd had no idea she was there till just then. "Uh?" he mumbled, his eyes closing, while Leslie trailed lazy kisses all along his jaw, working her way back to his mouth.

"What's the phone number to the main house?" Anna-Kristina asked. But she hadn't gotten the entire sentence out of her mouth before Christian tipped his head and resumed kissing Leslie. Anna-Kristina sighed wistfully, then took a deep breath and repeated the question in a near shout.

Again it was Christian who was jolted; for some reason Leslie seemed deaf. She shifted her kisses to his neck and upper chest, distracting Christian badly, though he did try very hard to focus on Anna-Kristina. "Right…what did you say?" he murmured, his eyes already slipping closed again.

"For the third time," Anna-Kristina said, very loudly, "what is the telephone number for the main house?"

"Oh…" The word mingled with a needy moan before Christian, through a sighing exhalation, breathed, "I don't know…" and surrendered to another kiss.

Anna-Kristina threw her hands in the air; despite herself she couldn't be angry with them. They were so in love, and she was little more than an intruder. Sighing with envy, she went into the house to look for a phone book, and spent a good ten minutes hunting all over the kitchen and living room for one without success. Straightening from looking under an end table, she stopped where she stood and stared as Christian and Leslie came into the house through the kitchen door to the deck, still kissing. They collided with the counter, but neither seemed to notice; they simply stopped there, hands caressing feverishly. One of Christian's had slid under Leslie's top; the other was hopelessly tangled in her hair.

The phone, unfortunately for Anna-Kristina, was in the kitchen, and she headed in that direction, all the while watching Christian and Leslie with a mixture of envy and wry amusement. "You aren't in the bedroom yet," she pointed out, raising her voice enough so that it echoed off the cathedral ceiling in the living room.

To her surprise, Christian and Leslie came apart, and Leslie blinked blearily at her. "Aren't you gone yet?" she mumbled, her eyes clouded with desire.

"I will be, as soon as you tell me the number at the main house," Anna-Kristina said.

"The what…?" Leslie breathed, falling yet again under Christian's spell when he gently tugged on her hair to tilt her head back and made to kiss her again. "Oh, I…"

Exasperated, Anna-Kristina poked Christian hard; she chose him because he was closest. Christian flinched and grunted, then gave her a look that actually made her step back in surprise. Leslie moaned softly and leaned into him, blindly searching for his mouth by trailing her own across his skin. Shaking her head, Anna-Kristina demanded the number again, deliberately shouting as loudly as she could.

Christian and Leslie stared at her; they weren't quite back in the here and now, but at least she had their attention. "I said I don't know," Christian growled.

"It's zero-zero-one," Leslie said in a strange, dreamy voice. "Oh, God, Christian, if you don't get me into the bedroom right this minute—"

"You read my mind," Christian said and lifted her into his arms, bearing her away to the bedroom. Anna-Kristina watched till they'd vanished toward the back of the house before swallowing hard and turning to the phone to punch out the three digits Leslie had given her. It took less than a minute for Roarke to assure her he would send a driver out for her; but when she had hung up she could already hear telltale sounds from the bedroom. They had either failed to completely close the door, or forgotten to even bother.

But though Anna-Kristina stood there in the kitchen, unable to move, she wasn't so much embarrassed as caught up in a strong yearning. She could easily see herself doing what her aunt and uncle were doing…but in her mind's eye, the man in her arms was Mateo Apana, limp and all. She propped her elbows on the counter, dropped her face in her hands and finally began to cry, heaving silent sobs, no longer hearing anything else.

Half an hour later, Christian and Leslie, tangled together atop the bedcovers, stirred faintly and looked at each other. "What did she ask you?" Christian wondered, his attention mainly on his hands as they slowly caressed her.

"She mentioned seeing Mateo this afternoon and finding out about his limp and his narcolepsy," Leslie murmured drowsily. She frowned a little and focused on him. "Christian, my love, did you know she has a shallow streak in her?"

Christian stopped and stared at her, surprised. "How do you mean?"

Leslie related to him the conversation she had had with Anna-Kristina, and he listened with concern, waiting for her to get through the entire story before he spoke. "I had no idea," he said after some thought, looking amazed. "That's a new one on me. You said she told you she's her father's daughter?" Leslie nodded. "Well, then, it surprises me less, since it apparently came from Arnulf. No daughter of his gets involved with a man who looks to be less than perfect. The trouble with that is that he sees physical and cosmetic flaws all too readily, but is willing to overlook the inner shortcomings. He would have been more than glad to get her married off to that verbally abusive man he'd chosen for her. But Mateo would never pass inspection with Arnulf, in spite of the fact that I'm sure he would treat her like gold."

"I wouldn't doubt it," Leslie observed, "if he returned Anna-Kristina's feelings. And it sounded to me as if he doesn't."

Christian considered this. "I wish I could speculate on that," he said, "but I can't; I just don't know him well enough. And I didn't see him around her, so I can only take her word for it. So now she's decided to give Prince Carlono the chance he wants with her?"

"That's what she said," Leslie told him. "She's convinced herself she can learn to love him if she gives it a chance. But there was something in her eyes that told me otherwise."

Christian sighed softly. "Well, as your father so aptly pointed out, she'll have to answer that question for herself. And you were right, too, my darling…she'll simply have to do without my advice—or yours either. Cold chicken, I think you said."

Leslie started to laugh. "That's cold turkey, my love."

"Oh, well, some poor frozen bird or another," Christian mumbled, shifting atop her and tracing her lips with one finger, watching her eyes darken with renewed need. "As of this moment, there is nothing on my mind except you." And he kissed her, driving thoughts of any other subject from their heads for the rest of that night.


	7. Chapter 7

§ § § -- February 1, 2001

Christian parked the rover in front of the main house at quarter till nine and went in with Leslie; both were dressed for work. Roarke looked up as they came in and noted the way they held hands. "Good morning, you two," he greeted them. "Are you ready to rejoin the real world, after two weeks away?"

"Two weeks in paradise with Leslie," Christian said wistfully, "and already I wish I could go back and relive them. I've never known such joy, and to think that my whole future is filled with this same love and happiness…I still have trouble believing it."

Leslie let go of his hand to slip her arm around his waist. "Me too," she admitted. "I still get lightheaded at the realization that Christian and I are married and he's here for good. If you catch me daydreaming, Father, by all means, do whatever you have to do to snap me out of it. I'm going to miss Christian all day."

They all laughed, though Christian nodded agreement with her and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, rubbing his hand along her upper arm a few times. "I just wanted to drop Leslie off here and say good morning," he said. "We've been out of touch, as you're well aware, and I was wondering…have you seen Anna-Kristina?"

Roarke focused on him, a sympathetic light in his dark eyes. "I apologize, Christian, but I myself wasn't aware of her plans until she appeared here in my study at six this morning. She was packed and ready to leave—which she did on the seven-o'clock charter. Did she not tell you she meant to do so?"

Christian and Leslie looked at each other in surprise. "She never mentioned a word to that effect," Christian said. "But I can't say it was unexpected. She had quite a chat with Leslie several days ago, and it looks as if she truly meant it when she said she was going to let Prince Carlono pursue her."

"Indeed!" said Roarke. "What changed her mind?"

"Mateo's limp and narcolepsy, of all things," Leslie said, shaking her head. "It was my impression, from what she said, that Arnulf taught her and her sisters to disdain any perceived imperfections in men they might consider marrying. But I could tell it was a hard decision for her to make: her strong attraction to Mateo versus what she was taught all her life. She wasn't happy about her decision, but she stuck to it."

Christian remarked, "I suppose we can't let ourselves dwell on it any further. After all, we don't know Mateo's take on the matter—we have only Anna-Kristina's assertion that he wouldn't have her."

"Very true," Roarke said, looking thoughtful, "but something tells me it's not the end of the matter by any means. It may take time for her to realize what she really wants, but it's my strong suspicion she will eventually return. When you think about it, love is more than enough reason to overcome even the most ingrained indoctrination: and if Anna-Kristina is truly in love with Mateo, as she claimed, she will discover that for herself." He regarded his daughter and son-in-law with a smile, which after a moment turned teasing. "Now, suppose you two bid each other goodbye for the day, and begin to learn to get along without being in each other's constant company. You have all your lives before you, and you'll soon settle into a comfortable routine."

Wistfully Christian and Leslie gazed at each other. "I know he's right, but it's not an easy thing to do," Christian said softly.

"No," Leslie agreed, "it's not…but it's unavoidable. Tell you what, I'll make the first move." She turned fully into his embrace, planted a kiss on his lips, then stepped back and smiled gamely at him. "Have a good day, my love, and I'll see you this evening."

Christian smoothed her hair and returned the smile. "Yes, this evening. If you can, though, come over for lunch."

"You could come over here," Leslie countered, eyes sparkling.

Roarke laughed. "Enough, you two! Leslie, you have several things that must be seen to as quickly as possible, so Christian, why don't you join us for lunch. And try not to worry about Anna-Kristina, all right? You have each other to think of, first and foremost."

"She'll be back, no matter what," Christian agreed. "As you said, Mr. Roarke, she'll find that love is reason enough for anything. I learned that lesson myself, thanks to your daughter." He dropped a kiss on Leslie's lips, grinned at Roarke and departed.  
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**A/N:** _Okay, so there's the story, and here's my question: what do you think will happen? Bear in mind that I'm looking for your opinion as to what Anna-Kristina will do (in light of her circumstances and her upbringing), not what she should do. I'll weigh your thoughts in when I eventually resolve her story. I look forward to finding out what you think, and thanks in advance for your ideas!_


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